Generational Bum

I’m followed by a Technicolor addicted Peter Fonda
Haunted by the Vroom Vroom of Buddha vibes
Chased by wild eyed road bums tearing their way to Denver
I long for that feeling of far away desperation
For Luke’s Blood Stained Blue Shining Eyes
For the burn of Marlboro coughs under Starry Skies
Cool died in the sixties
Cool died before it got too real

Cool died when we needed it most
Cool died and left behind scraps of bad tasting pot
Cool died and left ink stains
Found in the back alley’s by plastic hipsters
Cooked and served as art to the motherless Beat Fakers
Like me.